'Daddy?' The small boy whimpered, placing his small hand on his father's tearstained cheek, 'Where's mummy?'

Harry sighed, screwing his eyes shut, still unable to answer his two year old's questions.

'Mummy's gone, James.' He sighed, watching his brown eyes, her eyes, cloud over with confusion.

'On holiday?' He mumbled innocently, clapping his chubby hands together when his father nodded.

'Sure James, mummy's on holiday,' Said Harry with a forced smile. He glanced up towards the mantelpiece, his eyes narrowing as he looked at all the pictures. They were smiling, she and him, either at each other or at the camera. Either way, they were smiling.

He hadn't smiled since she'd gone.

Every time he tried, it looked more like a grimace or a scowl. Every time he tried, James looked slightly afraid.

He was whimpering now, noticing the distant look in his father's eyes, the sneer of his upturned lip.

Harry laughed bitterly. 'But I'm afraid James, that mummy might be enjoying her holiday so much, that she may not come back.'

The toddler wisely kept silent, patting his father's leg in an attempt to comfort him, only understanding the situation well enough to know that comfort was needed.

Harry envied his son, oblivious to everything going on around him. Oblivious to the brother he almost could have had, the son Harry almost could have had.

Oblivious to the way his mother left, saying it wasn't his fault, she just needed to get away.

Didn't she realise that it hurt him too? That it broke him again just as he was getting the family he had always wanted?

And that losing her as well as him almost killed him, almost made him want to die?

James was all he had to live for. The toddler sitting on his lap, crying for the mother who abandoned him. Harry ruffled his son's hair, wiped his eyes and patted his back softly, trying to calm him down.

James' wails were suddenly replaced with gurgles, as he raised his chubby arm and pointed to the window, noticing the snowflakes beginning to fall outside. Harry felt a persistent tug on his sleeve and stood up reluctantly, placing his excited son on the floor as he did so.

'Do you want to go outside James?' He asked, an effortless smile creeping into his face for the first time in days.

James noticed, which caused his smile to grow even wider. 'Snow!' He said, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him towards the door.

'Hey, buddy,' Harry laughed at his son's attempts to move him, 'You need a coat, it'll be cold out there.'

James jumped excitedly towards the coat rack, pointing up at his red coat and beckoning his father closer.

'I'm coming James! The snow won't go away, you know.' Harry said, helping his son into his coat before putting one on himself. 'Hat, James.'

James grabbed his favourite hat, red and gold stripes, off the side table, and pulled it over his messy black hair.

'And we're ready!' Harry exclaimed, earning him a toothy grin from James. As soon as he opened the door, he ran out in a red and gold blur.

Harry chuckled to himself, thinking for the first time that maybe they'd be able to cope without her. Maybe they'd even be better off without her.

'Daddy, hurry up!' Came a shout from outside, and Harry peered around the doorframe to see his son wearing his trademark pout.

He grabbed a scarf, before realising it belonged to her, chucking it onto the doormat and grabbing one which he knew belonged to him; red and gold stripes.

Pulling the scarf around his neck, he rushed over to his son who was chattering to himself excitedly.

'Look James, we match!' Harry exclaimed with over exaggerated enthusiasm, gesturing towards his scarf and his son's hat.

'That's because of Griffydorn,' James said happily, 'Where you and mummy lived together all alone in a little hut and played with the lion and the funny marshmallows in the clouds.'

Harry frowned, slightly confused. 'Yes James, red and gold are Gryffindor colours.'

James nodded firmly, the tassels on his hat bouncing up and down. 'That's what I said.'

Harry couldn't help but laugh, and while he was distracted James pressed a snowball into his cheek. Shivering, Harry crouched down to his son's height and began making a small pile of snowballs.

'You're meant to throw them, not put them on people's faces,' He explained, and threw one towards the tree nearby. 'See, like that.'

James grabbed one and chucked it at the tree. Despite it landing incredibly far away from it, Harry gasped theatrically.

'That was amazing, James! Do you want to aim at me this time?' Harry asked, confident that he wouldn't be hit due to his son's poor aim.

James gathered up another snowball, and hurled it towards his father, but it landed incredibly wide. James looked up at Harry, forlorn, but after getting an encouraging smile, he screwed up his face in concentration, and tried again.

It landed a few feet in front of Harry with a small plop, and tears began to stream down James' face.

'Hey, James, what's the matter?' Harry murmured, 'You're doing great. Come on, one more try?'

James nodded at his father with a determined glint in his eye. He gathered up another snowball, and just as he was about to throw it, it fell to the ground with a thud.

James glared angrily at the mound of snow on the floor, and threw himself to the ground screaming.

Harry stepped forwards, but a wall of snow hit him in the face, throwing him backwards. He got up slowly, glancing around to see if anyone else was nearby.

'James did you do-' He began, before being hit with another huge mound of snow.

James was rolling on the floor giggling, all his previous frustration forgotten. He clapped his hands and a ball of snow fell onto Harry from about a metre above him.

Harry blinked as he pushed the snow out of his messy black hair, before it finally dawned on him.

'James!' He shouted, running towards his son and pulling him into the air. 'You did magic, James!'

He then rushed into the house, not caring even when a heap of snow fell onto them from the ceiling of the hallway.